


I only have twelve bullets, and you’re all gonna have to share

by Frostberry



Category: Deadpool (2016), Naruto
Genre: F/M, Infinite Tsukuyomi, It's like the ninja world but no charkra but theres guns, Kinda like Deadpool but its set in a Naruto AU, lots of swearing, orochimaru is a twat, so yeah an AU, violence? did i mention violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostberry/pseuds/Frostberry
Summary: Hidan and Rock Lee race around the world trying to find Orochimaru, the dickhead who made Hidan immortal. Deadpool inspired fic.





	I only have twelve bullets, and you’re all gonna have to share

“For peace, and silence, we have our sacrifices that make Konoha, and the rest of the world yearn for peace…” 

 

All Hidan could hear was:  _ blah blah. blah, blah blah.  _

 

_ (Blah blah).  _

 

“For The Will of Fire, amen.”

 

Everyone said amen at once, except for Hidan, who wasn’t paying attention. His girlfriend, Ino, was sobbing quietly into a polka dot handkerchief next to him. Hidan had only turned up because Ino demanded he pay respects to her father, who’d lost his life during The Fourth World War. He’d been in the intelligence division, and although he didn’t like Hidan very much, Inochi supported their “relationship” - if you could call it a relationship. It definitely wasn’t a normal relationship. 

 

Inopig - Ino’s pet miniature pig - was sitting on a cushion next to Ino, whose handkerchief matched the frilly vest she’d dressed the little creature in. On Hidan’s side was probably some other blonde haired, blue eyed Yamanaka who looked at him accusingly as if he shouldn’t be there. 

 

Ino had said that Hidan should come along to the memorial service, especially because it was religious, and told him to pay his fucking respects as he was a good little god-fearing twit, wasn’t he?

 

Ino and Hidan were both snarky fuckers who somehow managed to make their relationship work in a war zone. The Yamanakas played a large part in the war, in the area of intelligence-gathering and interrogation. Ino was promoted to head of interrogation after the enemy blew up HQ, and quickly she and Hidan became a close-knit team; she as the interrogator, and he the torturer. 

 

They had mostly argumentative hate sex in the secluded dugout where nobody went - once even someone got shot and died just as they finished. Ino had pushed away, saying that was disgusting. Hidan had paid more attention to the blood splatter on his face while Ino grumbled about getting brains and half an eyebrow on her skirt before they went back to work. Sai came to announce that they’d captured a Kumo spy, so Hidan went to rip their fingernails off with pliers while Ino calmly spoke to them, trying to extract information about the Raikage’s whereabouts, all while giving them a good look at her cleavage. 

 

Hidan had been staring at Ino’s leg for the last few minutes, thinking about the amount of sacrifices he had made to Jashin during the war. Was it eighty-five, or eighty-six sacrifices? 

_ It was definitely eighty-six,  _ said the little fucked up voice named Jashin in his head. Ino elbowed him in the ribs, so he stopped and pretended to pay attention to the long list of names of those who sacrificed their lives for the Fire, Wind, River and Steam countries to ensure peace in the world.

 

He left the shitty temple with its shitty wooden pews before the shitty people attempted to have an even shittier conversation with him. He was regarded as batshit insane compared to the rest of the folk in Konoha. He was the only person in the world who was pissed the war was over. Hidan was a soldier, not a civilian, and he was not interested in the sissy civilian life of working at a supermarket scanning tampons at eleven o’clock at night - something which might even happen if he continued to be broke and acted like he was talking to some crazy fucker in his head named Jashin all the time. 

 

There was a military parade in the afternoon following the memorial service, showcasing the surviving Konoha, River and Suna soldiers doing the goose step. They looked strong and serious, chins up with rifles to their left side and headbands showing their alliances. Floats with papier mache animals moved their eyes forward and back, as people used rods to move the hands up and down as if they were waving. A marching band played in front of the parade. He recognised the song they were playing,[ _Soldiers of The Old Home Guard_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ViRU-Cq14hI) _,_ while the leaders of Konoha and Suna, the Hokage and the Kazekage, waved from their seats politely, opposite Hidan and the crowd of mostly women and children clapping and cheering. They didn’t even ask Hidan to participate as the only remaining Yugakure soldier left. 

He could figure out why he hadn’t been invited to join in. The nickname  _ Hidan of Hot Water  _ stuck, because of his foul temper, and it was almost as though steam came out of his ears when he was shouting. Not to mention he was from a tourist resort, not a military state. Sometimes he wouldn’t have minded putting his bayonet into asshole Konoha soldiers who smirked when he muttered his prayers at nightfall by the glow of a matchstick (they’d taken his fucking candles) who said that their religion, The Will of Fire, was the correct and  _ only  _ religion that mattered. Hidan tried to argue that it wasn’t a religion, it was more of a tradition, but nobody cared. 

 

Burnt out crates littered Konoha like strays, as nobody had got rid of them yet. Blackened buildings were a common sight. The smell of dirt permeated the air as people’s shoes scuffed up the dirt, making the ground look like brown fog. He could see the parade bringing in more floats of Mount Myoboku, the legendary One Tail and including one that was marked  _ WILL OF FIRE  _ with people handing out pamphlets.

Hidan took one anyway.  _ Be Loyal To Your Country,  _ it read. “Fucking patriotism at its worst,” he mumbled. “Ow!”

Inopig bit Hidan’s ankle and snarled at him. Well, as much of a snarl as a pig the size of a piggy bank could muster. A few people looked around in surprise.

 

Hidan snarled back - that pig fucking hated him, and he returned the feeling. “What do you want?” he snapped. Usually Inopig had a reason to be following him around, usually outside the interrogation room while he was having a break after slowly pushing pencils into people’s ears while they screamed in glorious agony. He spotted on Inopig’s collar a note shoved between the skin and the ugly jeweled band covering her fat neck. 

 

“Don’t bite - for fucks sake -  _ ow!”  _ Hidan managed to get the note off Inopig before she pushed her snout into his hand to bite him a second time. Pulling himself onto a nearby bench so that Inopig wouldn’t try to attack him again, he read, in Ino’s neat handwriting,  _ Hidan get your ass over here right now, someone’s been looking for you! _ on ornate Yamanaka Flowers Stationery.

 

He followed Inopig through the narrow rubble-covered streets of Konoha, ignoring the stares, currently from a mix of Suna and Konoha folk with banners and rifles. Konoha was slowly getting back on its feet after a more than a year of war against the neighbouring large countries. As Inopig and Hidan approached Yamanaka Flowers, he realised there were now little chairs outside with umbrellas over them, and the blackboard a-sign announced new stock:  _ candles, keyrings, vegan treats, stationery sets in store now! _

 

“Oi! Angel of the Morning. You sell candles and vegan shit now?” Hidan said loudly, entering Yamanaka Flowers. Ino didn’t look up, until he reached up where the top lock was on the door and dinged the bell loudly several times with his finger.  _ Ding ding.  _

 

_ Ding.  _

 

_ Dingdingdingdingding- _

 

“I can hear you, shut up,” Ino said, turning around and crossing her arms. Inopig trotted to her owner, who patted her on the head and gave the pig a treat. Inopig squealed in delight, then plonked down on the cushion she usually occupied in the shop corner. Her beady eyes remained on Hidan, who glowered back. 

 

“Can’t you send a carrier pigeon next time, jeez? My poor ankle.” Hidan pulled up a camouflaged leg to show a dark red mark. He didn’t seem to have a spare change of clothes that weren’t the Yugakure military uniform.

 

“Hmm…” Ino put a finger to her lips and looked up at the ceiling. She spend a few seconds pretending to actually reconsider using a carrier pigeon instead of Inopig to send messages.

 

“Well?” asked Hidan impatiently. 

 

She smiled. “No.” 

 

_ Figures _ . Hidan pretended to look interested in the new stock shelf which had been decorated with plastic orchids. 

 

“What do you want?” Hidan wasn’t even going to try and be nice. Ino knew Jashin came first, and she came a very, very distant second in Hidan’s life. “Is someone pissed at me again?”

“Someone asked me to hand this to you,” said Ino, tapping her finger at a piece of paper while she balanced flower stalks on those metal spike things so they held up on display - Hidan forgot what they were called. “It’s like a Jashin meeting, or something?” 

 

He perked up at the word  _ Jashin _ . 

 

“Really?” He stalked over and swiped up the paper. It was on pale blue card, typed out neatly, informing that there was a Way of Jashin meeting tomorrow, at the local temple that had held the memorial service this morning. “There must be a Lord Jashin follower around here. Like for fuck’s sake, I thought I was the only one.” He pulled his hair back, cherishing the card as if it was his firstborn. 

 

His heart - his cold dead heart - as Ino called it, felt happy, instead of moody and shitty since the war was over. Ino shrugged. She had no interest in Jashin, and she was up-front about it. One of her hobbies was intentionally pissing Hidan off about it for fun. 

 

“You better go then, see what other freaks will be there who also like taking pleasure in the suffering of others.” 

 

“I think I will,” Hidan put the blue card and put it in his back pocket, “Might find myself a hot Jashinist girl, and we can go sacrificing some lambs together.” 

 

“How romantic,” Ino remarked, with more than a hint of sarcasm. She had finished putting the stalks on the spikes, and was placing them carefully in vases for the front shop window. Inopig had stretched her trotters out and was now snoring loudly.

 

“I better prepare,” said Hidan, and he waved as he walked out the shop.. “See you, bitch.” 

 

“Bye, dickhead.” 

 

In retrospect, he really should have realised something was up, because Jashin followers were almost nonexistent. He knew of several, but they weren’t soldiers - they owned butcher shops, mostly, but spent their night sacrificing lambs in caves and carving the circle-triangle symbol into their chests while screaming in glorious Jashin-filled agony.

Hidan ignored the parade on the way back, which had almost finished up by the time he had crossed the main streets to get back to his hotel. Ino’s mother refused to let him stay in the Yamanaka apartment after Ino mentioned that her boyfriend was a Jashin follower and that they were also pretty mean to each other on purpose. The foreign soldiers were currently staying at the hotel. River and Suna soldiers were just about to get out a pack of cards to play in the lobby after their bit in the parade had finished. They whispered when he approached, gossiping about his exploits during the war. 

 

“Eighty-three hits? Wow.” 

 

“Yeah, but he’s mental. He’s always going on about his delusional God.”

“Jashinists are weird as fuck. Just ignore him.” 

 

He turned around to the Suna moron who had been polishing his headband. “It’s  _ eighty-six  _ confirmed hits, dickhead.” 

 

He then spent the next twenty-four hours studying his scripture _ ,  _ as if he didn’t know it off by heart already. But there was always something new to be found in it, and he had sent off for a copy of the old testamental version through mail order to be delivered to his hotel room. Inopig didn’t come back with any more messages from Ino, so he stayed in his room. He used an old maths compass needle to re-carve his Jashin symbol into his chest, and then two onto the underside of his feet, which represented the earth he would walk on and its sacrifices made for him. Walking through the pain - literally - made him feel closer to God. 

 

At six o’clock the next day, he dodged the crowds of happy veterans all fattening themselves up with ramen and yakitori. He recognised a few faces, such as Sai, who also worked in Intelligence with them, and Shikamaru, an old friend of Ino’s. Sai had that horrible smile on his stupid face again and Shikamaru raised his eyebrow only a tiny bit in acknowledgement when Hidan strolled past. 

 

_ Can’t believe there’s a fucking Jashin meeting in this temple.  _

 

The temple, with its Konoha flags falling down from the ceilings, and polished wooden pews and floor, was empty. The lights were on, but no Jashin symbols… no nothing. 

 

Feeling a bit pissed off, Hidan turned from the room to leave. Then the door slammed, and he hit the floor. 

 

Now he knew he wasn’t here for any Jashinist meeting. 

 

*

 

F eeling groggy as fuck (the only way he could describe it) and feeling as if someone had dumped him in a pool of anaesthetic, Hidan woke. His first thought was that he had been gassed with Zyklon B. Eyes blurry, head hurting and feeling as if his brain was sloshing around in his skull, his retinas burned as he squinted up at the blurred figures in front of him. He realised they were calling his name. He tried to answer but stopped when he saw who they were. He didn’t recognise them, but he knew the colours. 

 

Two men dressed in Konoha flak jackets were smiling down at him. One of them had a white lab coat over the dark green uniform. Hidan was tied down with rope, sitting propped up with his arms pulled out in front of him like a doll. He could see red pinpricks on them. He was reminded of the children’s game heads down, thumbs up, except this was a much, much more gruesome version of it. 

 

They definitely weren’t here for a Lord Jashin meeting. 

 

“Fuck off, what the hell?! Is this revenge for accidentally putting those Fire country cunts in the gas chamber?!” A pale man with long black hair smiled and his tongue flicked out. It was  _ long.  _ It was even forked like a snake. Gross.

“I knew he was going to be hard to handle,” said the man with the ponytail and glasses. “After all this time, he’s finally woken up.” 

 

“I am Orochimaru. My subordinate is very sorry for gassing you,” said Snake Man, not sounding very sorry at all, but looking down at Hidan’s body with interest. “Kabuto, give me the syringe.” 

 

“What are you fucking doing, fucking nerd?!” Fucking Nerd’s white laboratory coat made him look s if he was going to give a speech on body creams in some CGI skin rejuvenation clinic. A syringe full of red liquid was produced from somewhere, and Hidan couldn’t move. Orochimaru jabbed the syringe into a vein in his arm. The liquid was blinding hot. Almost like he had thrown his arm into a hot spring back home, but hey, he had a high pain tolerance.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Hidan decided on a more nicer and less-sweary approach find out why these two weirdos from Konoha had kidnapped him and tied him up, which was upsetting because it wasn’t Ino doing it, and also put drugs and shit into his system.

“Well, put it this way, I’m going activate a few genes. You are Hidan of Hot Water, the only living soldier from Steam Country.” said Kabuto. “And we have been watching… certain soldiers. During the war. Eighty-eight confirmed kills. Nice.” 

 

“Eighty-six, godless moron.”  _ Why can anyone get it right? _

 

“Out of everyone in the war, you were probably the bravest - yet you didn’t even receive the Kage Cross. You threw yourself into bombs, catching grenades - it’s like you wanted to die.” 

 

“But then I got transferred to torture so that shit stopped,” said Hidan. “Why are you interested in me?” 

 

“What if I told you we are all in a Infinite Tsukuyomi?” Orochimaru suddenly said, putting a long finger on the skin where he had just injected the liquid. Hidan’s blood seeped slowly underneath his finger, and he kept it there instead of getting a cotton ball or whatever the hell creepy Orochimaru had in his creepy room. It was dark, only lit by several candles, so Hidan had no idea where they were.

 

“Infinite Fucking What?” 

 

Orochimaru sighed. 

 

“This world is an illusion, Hidan.” 

 

Hidan shook his head, strands of silver-purple hair falling over his eyes. “I’m not stupid.” 

“It is,” said Kabuto, aka The Fucking Nerd. “Originally, we were all ninjas.”

Hidan gawked. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

 

Orochimaru and Kabuto raised their eyebrows as Hidan laughed, “Ninjas? Like those old assassins with the swords that stabbed themselves in the stomach when they got sad and shit? Let me go, freaks. I have better things to do then become a meth head.” 

 

“During the Fourth Shinobi War, we were all placed in an illusion. My subordinate and I have figured out how to regain our original powers, but not our memories. My test subjects can do things like walk on water,  _ become  _ water. They can make things explode with only a few hand signals, and even create clones of themselves. They can become stronger than anyone else just by lifting a finger.” 

 

“That’s nice,” Hidan said, not paying attention to them, but rather, seeing if he could somehow get himself out of the ropes. “Let me go, Snake Man.” 

 

“We are bringing your powers back,” said Orochimaru. “We’ve done a lot of work while you were unconscious. Have a good look at yourself.” 

 

Kabuto produced a small mirror from his lab coat, and Hidan had to now “take a good look at himself.” 

 

His hair had grown at least an inch, and his eyes were crazy bloodshot. But that wasn’t what he cared about. The Jashin symbol - the infamous triangle in a circle - which he re-carved religiously into his chest once a week so it would never, ever heal - was gone. It had been a part of him since he was a teenager, since he’d crushed those bird eggs as part of his first sacrifice. The symbol had grown bigger and deeper over the years. 

 

“How long has it been?” 

 

“We knocked you out for a month, while we administered what we needed,” said Orochimaru. “In your real life - that is, the one where the Infinite Tsukuyomi doesn’t exist - you were definitely a ninja, although we do not know what powers you possessed, except for your healing powers and ability to not die.” 

 

_ That is the true way of Jashin,  _ the voice suddenly said in Hidan’s head. He perked up.  _ Immortality.  _ He knew that at the end of his life he would have been granted a spot by Jashin’s throne, the Death God of the Underworld, who watched over hell. 

 

Wait. 

 

“A month!?” he suddenly squawked.  _ Ino would definitely think I’ve gone off with the rest of the people from that fake Jashin meeting… _

 

“However,” Orochimaru flashed a smile. “I’d like to keep you. Usually those whom I have dealt with work for me afterwards. I think you’d be better off working for me. I myself am not immortal. Although I have the powers from our  _ real  _ world, I do not have what you have. I’m a little jealous, Jashin-boy.” 

 

At this, Hidan realised that it wasn’t quiet in the room. Kabuto and Orochimaru now turned away, writing down notes on their clipboards and mumbling medical jargon Hidan didn’t understand. They said words like  _ hemoglobin  _ and  _ thrombosis  _ and  _ platelet  _ while Hidan listened in silence. 

 

In the distance, he heard the screams of other people. A few minutes later, Kabuto pulled him up by the ropes, and pushed him out the door. 

 

The torturer now being tortured. Fucking great. Candles lit the hallway, which meant that wherever they were in the world electricity hadn’t been restored yet. They passed cells of people, many of them with various muted colours covering their skin. Every single one of them had a mutation - wings out of one shoulder, bones covering their faces - and each was as ugly as the next one. The smell of death lingered when Kabuto shoved him into a small cell with nobody else in it.

 

For the next few days, every hour, on the hour (they forgot to take away his watch, turns out) they would come in with a syringe, or beat the shit out of him. 

 

“You forgot I get off on that stuff,” he said as they slapped him, cut his arm away and watched it regrow. It hurt, but there was a high threshold of pain Hidan could take, and now everything felt numb and different to what he normally felt like. Watching a baby hand come out of his normal arm was a truly bizarre experience.

 

One day, being sedated after punching a guard with shark teeth in the face (whose face turned to water), Orochimaru cut his head off. 

  
  



End file.
